The Dark Revival
by NoahPhantom
Summary: 6 years after the Battle of Hogwarts, the last Death Eaters gather behind Gallen Ingot and make a final stand; the Aurors will have to stand stronger. Features pretty much every character who survived book 7. Compliant with all canon. Updates often. Full summary inside. Current chapter: 6 - "Riddle Me This." Antonin Dolohov, plotting his next move, gets a breakfast surprise.
1. A Very Weasley Wedding

_Hello everyone, and welcome to The Dark Revival: a story of Harry's, Ron's, and everyone's quest to defeat Gallen Ingot, the wizard of unnatural power who commands the rogue Death Eaters six years after the conclusion of the original series. I've been planning this for some time and I'm glad to finally get started on it!_

_****__I know reading long authors' notes can be tedious, so if you're really impatient with this stuff like I am, you can get an acceptable amount of information by just reading what I've written in bold. Of course, I do suggest reading all of it. I know it's long but there is a lot to know about this project and it's all important. But you don't have to if you can't sit through it, and I wouldn't blame you._

_A longer summary follows. Below that are a few things to know._

_Six years after the fall of Voldemort, Harry must don his title of hero once more. As the Head Auror, he is tasked with cleaning up the mess and dealing with the new threat that has emerged. Voldemort's remaining Death Eaters have gathered behind a new leader, Gallen Ingot, to make their final stand. A man of immense power and just as little remorse as his former master, Ingot threatens to destroy everything for which Harry and his friends have worked so hard. The Death Eaters are making their final stand; the Aurors will simply have to stand stronger. Fighting threats both internal and external, Harry must save the world from multiple enemies and make good on his promise to clean up the Ministry and the world. **Features pretty much every somewhat important character who's still around after the Battle of Hogwarts. The point of view is mostly Harry's but will shift from time to time.**_

_Now, a couple notes on this project:_

_Firstly, **you don't need to read my other works to read this.** I'm the author of a series of seven Albus Potter books, the first of which is entitled Albus Potter and the Global Revelation; I'm currently finishing up the fourth. There have been references to the events of the Dark Revival in my books, and there will definitely be some crossover characters between my two projects (this series and Albus Potter), but you don't have to read either to read the other; all the information needed for this story is given in this story. However, reading both will give you a much more colorful experience, and you'll find a lot of very interesting connections. **I will stay in canon as far as the extent of my knowledge (which is pretty damn far)** and will also hold true to factoids about the Dark Revival which I have presented in my Albus Potter series. Despite the fact that the very first chapter of my Albus Potter series reveals exactly what will eventually happen at the end of this story, there's so much possibility for complex underlying plot in this concept that it was impossible to resist writing. In addition, the plot for the Albus Potter series was conceived by my good friend Andy, but I thought it was time for me to take on a major project that's more of my own. It's set inside the world that Andy created, but most fan fiction is generally in worlds that have already been created anyway. But I'm constantly discovering how there is still so much room for expansion. So, almost everything and every concept you'll see that wasn't already introduced in JK's Harry Potter books or my Albus Potter books is my invention. But please, **IF YOU READ MY OTHER SERIES, AND YOU KNOW SOME INFORMATION ABOUT WHAT WILL HAPPEN IN FUTURE CHAPTERS OF THIS STORY, PLEASE, PLEASE DO NOT WRITE SPOILERS IN YOUR REVIEW. NOT EVERYONE KNOWS AND NOT EVERYONE WILL WANT TO KNOW; PLEASE BE RESPECTFUL.**_

_Secondly, **in this series, language will be coarse, sex will be had, and death will be a constant presence.** Keep that in mind. This is going to be a very mature story, much more so than my other works. I'm not afraid to kill characters. There will be a lot of original characters, and trust me, not even your canonical characters are safe._

_Thirdly, **updates will not happen regularly, but WILL happen fairly often.** I will not have a schedule for uploading; it all will depend on how much free time I have in the coming days, and when I feel the inspiration to write another chapter. I won't give a general time frame either because I really don't know; however, I will say that if I notice I haven't updated in two weeks or so, I will try and make it my priority not to keep you hanging for three. But this is subjective to my schedule. With certainty, I can say this project will be taking a backseat to my Albus Potter series, but I will also say that **I will NOT leave this story without an update for more than three weeks, EVER, no matter my schedule, and preferably not even that long.** In general, though, please don't ask me when I'm going to update; I would like to answer, but I will not be able to!_

_Fourthly, **I will eventually be making a list of characters so that you can keep track, because there are a lot of original characters. **This list will probably take a while to compile. When I finish, I will let you know in a future author's note on a future chapter of this story._

_Fifthly, as is the case for my Albus Potter series, **if you leave a question in your review which I can answer without sufficiently spoiling the story, I will list your question and answer it in a section on my profile page. You will find this Q&A section at the very bottom of my profile.** I pay very close attention to reviews from my readers, and if you want to strike up a conversation with me, I am very responsive to PMs and would be happy to discuss theoretical concepts and plotlines._

_Sixthly, **the chapters will generally be between 2000 and 3000 words.** Some may be longer, but they won't be shorter than that. There are a lot of chapters planned for this story. Don't ask me how many, though. I know, because they are all planned out and named already, but I'm not telling you._

_And lastly, just know that I'm going to put forth all my efforts into this work... so__ **i**_**_f you like it... PLEASE share it with your friends, or recommend it to others on this site or other sites!_**_ Building a reputation is how other people find my story, and constructive criticism from as many people as possible is how I improve. I really want to write the best story possible for you guys; please help me in return by letting people know I'm here. I would REALLY appreciate it!_

_**If I have any other announcements, I will write them in the chapter itself, before or after the actual chapter, as well as posting it on my profile. Please read these author's notes when I post them because they will generally be important; they won't be nearly as long as this one.** And that's all you have to know for the series. Without further ado, here is the first chapter and the opening to the story. I hope you enjoy it and I hope you pass it on. Happy reading!_

_-Cody_

* * *

**chapter one**

**a very weasley wedding**

**sunday, june 6, 2004**

"Bright sunlight," said Ron, stretching his arm across the sky to display its beauty. He paused mid-stretch and used the hand instead to block out the sunlight, which was apparently _too_ bright. "Gorgeous temperature. Cool, gentle breeze. Could we have picked a more perfect day for the wedding?"

"No, I don't think we could have," said Harry, rolling his eyes but smiling. "It's almost as if you hired Gustavo Nostrello's entire South American family to do a continuous 'Sun Dance' for the whole wedding, to ensure perfect conditions."

"It's almost as if that is the case," said Ron, poking Harry on the nose, "but that's our little secret."

"Ours and Gustavo's," said Harry. "But I may or may not have heard Gustavo telling the entire Auror Office."

"Ah, what do I care," said Ron. "It's worked, hasn't it?"

"So far," said Harry. "It could also be that, you know, the forecast was sunny."

"Because of the sun dance."

"Sure," said Harry. "Let me check who's here…"

He pulled out the guest list, which was crossing names off of itself as he watched.

"Ah, where's Adelaide?" he said. "She's usually an hour early to everything."

"I heard she took a brick to her face in an exploding house," said Ron. "Maybe she's nursing a concussion."

"Jeannine Jackman just arrived," said Harry. "Hide me. Who else… We're still missing Dean and Seamus… Stenet and Monroe… the Walkers… oh, ugh, and Duncan and Chinch—did you really have to invite the _entire_ office?"

"Well, I couldn't just invite everyone and leave out Duncan and Doctor Chinch," said Ron. "They'd notice. And I see them every day, so I don't want them to hate me."

"Kimilla Devine just arrived, too," said Harry. "Damn."

"Could you start finding people on my guest list that you won't spend the whole day complaining about?"

"You _couldn't_ have picked a more perfect day," said Harry, a hand shading his eyes, "but you certainly could have picked a better _attendance._ Why is Devine even here? She hates the both of us."

"If you don't stop I'm going to make a house call to the Malfoys and get Draco to replace you as best man."

"If you want me to stop, don't threaten me with a situation I'd pay money to see," laughed Harry.

_It is a perfect day, though,_ he thought as Ron walked into a back room to prepare. He looked up into the brilliant cerulean sky, dotted with the occasional cloud; Ron's siblings had taken brooms to the sky and shaped all of the clouds into hearts, probably baffling Muggles in the nearest towns… but then again, worrying about that part wasn't the Auror Office's job.

Ron hadn't spared any expense—well, any free expense, that was. And Mrs. Weasley's finest cooking was waiting for the guests.

"Harry," said Percy, walking over with his wife, Audrey.

"Percy!" said Harry joyfully, extending a hand. Percy struggled to shift baby Lucy in his hands so that he could reach out to shake Harry's, but eventually he succeeded. Audrey held Molly, now a toddler. "How are things?" he asked.

"Wonderful, really," said Percy. "Guess who's now the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic?"

"Molly?" guessed Harry teasingly; Audrey laughed.

"No, it's me, actually," said Percy.

"That's _fantastic!_" exclaimed Harry as Percy smoothed out his robes proudly. "What happened to Lydia Weiss?"

"Kingsley dismissed her," said Percy quietly. "He doesn't trust her anymore; says she's been sneaking around a little too much and liaising with disreputable individuals."

"Can't you just phrase it like, 'talking with bad people?'" said Audrey, shaking her head.

"I never liked Weiss much," said Harry. "Hello, Bill!"

Bill walked over with Victoire and greeted his family; Fleur was scolding Victoire for using magic on a honeybee she found in the garden.

"Magic already?" said Harry, impressed.

"Molly showed magic yesterday," said Percy proudly. "That puts her in the top twenty percent in the world already!"

"Only you would compare three-year-olds," said Audrey, rolling her eyes as she tousled Molly's hair. "That has no correlation to ability. Hell, I still haven't done any magic in my life and I think I'm pretty successful."

"Except for your husband," said George, walking over. "That's a bad blemish."

"Hello, George!" said Harry. "Where's Angelina?"

"Sitting down," said George. "She's got some sort of parasite in her stomach and she needs to rest more than usual."

"Have you named the parasite yet?" asked Bill.

"We're thinking 'Roxanne,'" said George. "Angelina's aunt, you know. Taught her everything she knows about Quidditch."

"And where's Charlie?" asked Harry. "I haven't seen him yet."

"Charlie's just got here, and he's fetching Fred's portrait," said Bill.

"I'm working on a self-propelling frame for Fred's portrait," said George. "Then Fred can just go where he wants and no one has to hover him around."

"You did account for a seat for Fred's portrait, right?" said Bill. "I feel bad for whoever's sitting behind that giant thing… they won't be able to see at all."

"I did account for a seat," said Harry. "And we'll make it see-through on one side."

"Can somebody make Auntie Muriel see-through on all sides?" asked Bill, glancing over to the horribly unpleasant hundred-and-fourteen-year-old woman.

"I still can't believe Ickle Ronnie's getting married," said George. "Well, I've got to go make sure Monroe and Sage are getting everything set up all right…"

"Yeah, and I'll go help Mum in the kitchen," said Bill.

"You don't 'ave too much of a 'eadache?" asked Fleur with concern.

"Nah, I'm fine dear," said Bill. "The full moon was three days ago, sweetheart. See you, Harry." He and Percy waved goodbye and struck up a chat as they left.

"See you!" said Harry.

"Wotcher, Harry!"

Harry turned with delight to the next familiar greeting. Some part of him still ached every time he heard it, though—he associated the word with Tonks.

"Traelie!" said Harry warmly, giving her a firm handshake. "So glad you could make it. I didn't see you come in…" He checked the guest list again.

"What, do you think I was an imposter?" said Traelie, thumping her chest. "Ow, my tits."

"No, there's only one Joan Traelie," said Harry, chuckling, "and she's the one hitting herself in the tits. Great to see you."

"Where's Yustef? Where's that dirty bastard? I gotta give him a kick in the dick for deserting me on that last raid… You hear about Adelaide?"

"Brick to the face?" said Harry. "She okay?"

"Yes, and that's Adelaide for you," said Traelie. "She can take a brick to the face and she's okay. So how's the blushing groom-to-be? Did he get the dress on all right?"

"He's nervous…"

"Nervous?" scoffed Traelie. "He marches into hell at least once a week! Does he think there's a dragon-fighting stage of the wedding?"

"Well, he's the last of the Weasley kids to tie the knot, other than Charlie," said Harry. "And Charlie's not happening anytime soon, so he's kind of the finishing act of the family."

"Charming Charles tied the knot long ago with his work," said Traelie. "_His_ wedding _did_ have a dragon-fighting stage. So, excited for your other best friend to finally be your sister-in-law-in-law?" She bumped Harry with her elbow.

"It feels just like it did on my wedding day, actually. It's really exciting—my two best friends from school. I'm so happy for them."

"Hopefully this won't end like William's and Fleur's wedding…"

"Don't jinx it, Joan."

"Well, if I did jinx it, the counter-jinx is that the entire Auror Office is in attendance for the wedding," said Traelie. "Speaking of which, I'm going to go say hi to my two favorite lesbians—see you up there!"

"They're not lesbians," called Harry as Traelie ran up to Zucker and Piper.

"Zed! Pipes! How're my two favorite lesbians?"

"We're not lesbians," said Zucker, rolling her eyes.

"Yustef!" called Traelie abruptly as she recognized her friend in the crowd. "Get your balls over here so I can smash them into pancakes!"

Yustef darted away at lightning speed; Traelie pursued and Harry turned away laughing.

"Jojo!" called Harry, seeing another of his closer friends from the office. "Jojo Monroe!"

Monroe noticed Harry and walked over; Monroe's friend Braden Sage followed him.

"Did you get everything set up?" he whispered.

"Good to go," mumbled Monroe back. "Three letters per package makes ten total. Set them all off at the same time."

"Wait, but it was twenty-nine letters. C-O-N, G-R-A—"

"Don't strain yourself," said Sage. "We added an exclamation point. Oh, and George said we had to mention that the project was sponsored by Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, established 1996."

"I'm their first investor, I don't give a shit," joked Harry.

"The Willowthorns are here," said Monroe as Traelie appeared over his shoulder. "But apparently they couldn't pass up a quick fuck in the loo, so they just went in… knowing Ezra, they'll be out in thirty seconds."

"Wait," said Traelie as Harry burst out laughing. "Don't you mean, 'knowing Kyrie?'"

"Kyrie?" repeated Sage. "She isn't—"

"What? _She?_" demanded Traelie.

"Yes, Traelie, Kyrie is a woman," said Monroe. "This was established long ago when Smart accidentally walked in on her and Ezra in the shower."

"I thought Kyrie was the guy and Ezra was the girl!"

As the others laughed harder, Traelie put her hands on her hips. "What are you guys laughing at?" she huffed. "What kind of a guy name is Ezra? All this time—how long have we known them?—I thought they were each others' names!"

"That's your fault," observed Monroe, "for referring to Kyrie exclusively as 'the Willowthorn with the vagina.' You were never technically wrong, so no one corrected you."

"But seriously, who names their son Ezra?!"

"Ezra's parents?" guessed Sage.

"That's not that uncommon of a name for—" began Harry.

He didn't finish. An explosion rocked the ground below their feet, and people were screaming. Harry extracted his wand in half a second with the reflexes of an Auror, and turned around just in time to see a Death Eater flying straight at his face.

Delkan appeared in a flash out of nowhere and Stunned the Death Eater; Harry followed up with an Impediment Jinx and he halted in midair. Traelie carved out the ground with a quick Gouging Charm; they slammed him down and buried him under the ground to retrieve later. Harry turned to see Hermione's parents running towards him in terror as the sky suddenly filled with dark figures.

"No, no, you don't run to _me_ for protection!" yelled Harry, trying to wave them off. "I'm the _worst_ possible person you could be standing next to!"

"Is this a normal part of Wizarding weddings?" asked Mr. Granger, looking from side to side.

"It's a normal part of Weasley weddings, apparently!" yelled Harry.

"OH, SHIT, I TOTALLY _DID_ JINX US!" bawled Traelie, casting a Full Body-Bind with impeccable aim to knock a Death Eater straight off of a broom in the air. The broom sailed towards the concealed boxes of fireworks, and smashed through eight out of the ten of them before grinding to a halt. The fireworks exploded into the sky, spelling out most of the intended message; they all continued to battle under the flashing words "CONGRATULATIONS RON AND HER."

"Ron and _her?!_" screamed Hermione, running into the fray in her full, billowing white wedding dress. "Ron and _HER?!_ You couldn't even spare the change to put my name in?!"

Harry grimaced and shouted at her, "It's not the whole—"

"AUGH!"

Ron had entered the battle, too, but he flinched and jumped in the other direction when he saw Hermione. He turned around and faced the other way. "Hermione! What the hell are you doing, it's bad luck for me to see you in your dress before the ceremony!"

"OH, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD—HERE!"

Hermione twirled her wand arm around her dress, and the dress vanished to be replaced by a kinky black leather uniform clad in spikes and chains. "THERE, BETTER?"

Ron turned around and yelped again. "BLIMEY—NO, THAT'S TEN TIMES WORSE!"

"GET OVER YOURSELF, RONALD!" shouted Hermione as she charmed herself back into normal robes.

"SHUT UP AND DUEL!" yelled Harry. "Mrs. Granger, get yourself and your husband to the Walkers over there for protection! They're the ones in the teal robes; they're some of our best! Get out of the line of fire!"

"If you insist!" said Mrs. Granger, grabbing her husband's arm and dragging him in the direction Harry pointed.

Ezra and Kyrie Willowthorn popped out of the restroom looking frantic; Ezra's pants were around his ankles and Kyrie was shirtless. They glanced up at the swarming Death Eaters and spared no time. Ezra freed himself from the last grasp of his pants and charged into combat in his undergarments. Kyrie held one hand across her breasts to conceal them, and held her wand in her other hand as she dueled a Death Eater who had landed in front of her. She got the upper hand and cast a curse that sent him flying through the air; straight through the flashing lights above the battleground, and he broke apart the last two words, resulting in the message spelling out only "CONGRATULATIONS RON." A careening Death Eater on a broom burst through the fireworks and shattered the word "CONGRATULATIONS," and another flying spell shattered the top of the last O; the message now simply read "RUN."

"They crashed the wrong fucking wedding!" roared Traelie, slashing a Disarming Charm so powerful that it knocked the broom right out from under a flying Death Eater. He tumbled through the air and smashed into a cabin across the field; the front wall collapsed, exposing a group of South American dancers with suns painted on their chests.

Harry cast a spell into the path of a curse headed straight for Hermione, breaking it apart before it could make contact; Ginny appeared by his side, holding baby James. Rather than crying, James was actually laughing and enjoying the lightshow. Ginny pressed her back against Harry's so that they could cover all directions.

"Wouldn't be a Weasley wedding without a swarm of pissed-off Death Eaters, now, would it?!" yelled Ginny as she parried a Stunner and returned it for a direct hit.

Harry turned to try and pick off a Death Eater who was charging towards Neville, but another Auror burst straight through the ground underneath him and knocked him unconscious with an energy-fueled uppercut. Adelaide landed gracefully next to the twitching body, and she waved to Harry.

"You're late!" yelled Traelie as Yustef appeared by her side and set himself against her back like Ginny was against Harry's.

"Look at what happens when I leave you all alone for five minutes!" yelled Adelaide, racing off towards the center of the action.

Harry's eye was caught by Neville for a moment as he took down two Death Eaters alone. Neville had grown into quite the duelist.

"POTTER!" yelled someone else from across the field; it was Harry's strict mentor, Megara Roy. "FOCUS!"

"I AM FOCUSING!" shouted Harry.

"PINKY TO PAD! DON'T FORGET YOUR FORM JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE IN COMBAT!"

"HOW CAN YOU EVEN SEE MY FINGERS FROM OVER THERE?!"

Mrs. Weasley had emerged from the kitchen and had already taken down four more men, slashing and twirling her wand with ferocity Harry hadn't seen since she dueled Bellatrix. The Death Eaters' ranks had fallen by more than half. The rest of them seemed to realize their mistake in crashing a celebration full of trained duelists; they were outmatched by far in both numbers and skill. The conscious Death Eaters flew away; Kenan Fallon shot one last Stunner at their backs as they disappeared over the horizon.

"THAT'TH RIGHT!" bellowed Petey Pert in his ludicrously flamboyant accent. "WHO THE FUCK WEARTH BLACK TO A WEDDING!"

"Well, _there's_ a reason to be nervous for your wedding," said Traelie, wiping her brow as the crowd erupted into cheers. She turned around and delivered a swift kick into Yustef's groin; he collapsed on the grass, convulsing in pain.

"How many did we get?" asked Fallon as Traelie unearthed five buried Death Eaters. "How many did we lose?"

"Did we even lose _anyone?_" asked Harry, looking at all of the faces before him.

"Hey, anyone here dead?" called Traelie. "Raise your hand if you got killed."

"I don't think we lost a single one," said Sage, giving a quick head count. "And we captured… thirty-eight."

"Wow," said Monroe. "Go team."

"Dean, you rocked," said Seamus, jogging over to his friend. "Why the hell haven't you joined the Auror Office?!"

"This'll be a job to clean up," said Hermione, sighing as she glanced around at the ruined party.

"In more ways than just the mess here," said Harry. "That was an organized attack; there'll probably be more."

"You have to say that," said Ron. "You're the Head Auror."

"Still," said Ginny, "despite everyone staying intact, this should be something we should worry about."

"Yeah, yeah, I know," said Ron, putting his arm around Hermione, "but… can we not worry about it today?"

Harry grinned. "Of course," he said. "We have unfinished business."

The crowd fell quiet, staring at the almost newlyweds, waiting for them to speak.

"Kiss that fucking bride," said Traelie, breaking the silence.

Ron dipped Hermione down low and kissed her as the crowd cheered again.

"Woo-hoo, yeah!" whooped Traelie. "Willowthorns, get some fucking clothes on and stay out of the loo; Weasley and the new Weasley are going to need it to make yet another new Weasley."

Harry looked up at the sky again. It was still a perfect day… but sunshine never lasted too long. The storms would always come.


	2. Who's Afraid of the Big, Bad Snake?

_Thanks to my good friend Andy for making the cover of this series! He says he wants to update the illustration every so often by adding more characters as we get to know them. I thought that was such a good idea that I decided to write it here so all of you can see, so that now he has to do it. :) On the top of the cover obviously is Harry; on the left is a man you will be meeting in this chapter named Gallen Ingot; on the right is a young girl named Adelina Nelson who you will be meeting soon enough. Nelson and Ingot are referenced constantly in the Albus Potter series I'm doing, which is why I decided to write about them finally._

* * *

**chapter two**

**who's afraid of the big, bad snake?**

**tuesday, july 13, 2004**

As they had done every month for the past six years, the scarred and angry Death Eaters gathered around the table. They took their seats and looked around at the growing number of empty chairs.

Dolohov stared at the few returning men through narrowed eyes. Last month, they had a severe drop in attendance after the disaster at the Weasley wedding; they had lost many good fighters amongst their ranks, who were now in Azkaban. But the attendance this month had dropped even further than the previous meeting. After the attack on the wedding, the Aurors had been busy. They were finding and picking off former followers of the Dark Lord at a pace they had never before employed. And now, even the men who hadn't been captured were now remaining in their homes. They were frightened that something might happen to anyone who was a continuing presence at the Death Eater gatherings.

"This meeting is now in order," said Dolohov.

"Nothing is in order," snapped Yaxley, leaning forward over the table. "We've been meeting for six years and we've only managed one organized attack. And that one attack has lost us more than half of our already miniscule ranks. Half and counting."

"Who did we lose?" asked Dolohov, quietly but with a tone in his voice that made Yaxley lean back in his chair again.

"Rowle," said Travers. "Pierce. Avery. Mulciber. Selwyn. Jugson and the Carrows. Rookwood and Malfoy. Am I missing anyone?"

"We're missing everyone you just named," muttered Yaxley. "Look at us."

Dolohov glanced around. There was practically no one left. There was Yaxley and Travers, Macnair and Greyback (though Greyback had never truly been a Death Eater), and the Lestrange brothers. There were twelve other men and women still present, who had been members of the Dark Lord's army, and then there was himself. And that was it. Nineteen of them remained. How long before it dropped to zero?

"Lucius Malfoy wasn't captured," grumbled Dolohov.

"Neither were the Carrows," said Macnair. "Bloody cowards. They're just not showing up because they think we'll be raided, with all the raids going on. And we're missing thirty-one members of the army who weren't captured but still aren't coming tonight."

"There will be no raid here," said Dolohov. "We've forced everyone to take the Unbreakable Vow in regards to the secrecy of our location. Anyone who rats us out will die."

"Everyone expects a life in Azkaban," snorted Yaxley. "So death is a release."

"ENOUGH, YAXLEY!"

Dolohov slammed his fist against the table so hard that the wood snapped and his fist nearly went through, leaving a large dent.

"Whoa there, princess, settle down."

All nineteen of them jumped from their seats and whirled around to face the window, wands extracted. Sitting in the nook formed by the window like he owned the place, picking under his fingernails with a sublimely bored expression, was someone they did not think they'd ever see again. And they had hoped those thoughts were correct.

"Ingot," growled Dolohov.

Gallen Ingot brushed back his straight brown hair and grinned, still without looking directly at them. "Dolohov. Yaxley. Travers. Everyone. How nice to see you all again. Where's the food? I'm hungry."

"You're not welcome here."

"But your floor mat says, 'Welcome.' That's false advertising, Dolohov. I could sue you for emotional damages."

Dolohov flicked his wand. The welcome mat by the door burst into purple flames, shriveled up and crumbled into ashes.

"I always liked your purple flames," said Ingot. "Purple is definitely your color."

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, right now I'm sitting in a windowsill."

"Get out."

Ingot finally turned his head to look at Dolohov, and he narrowed his eyes. "No."

Yaxley flinched slightly, looking at Ingot. "What the bloody hell," he said, "happened to your eye?"

"Oh, now you care?" asked Ingot, raising his eyebrow high above his brown eye; the iris of his other eye was a gleaming red.

"No, we don't," corrected Dolohov. "You leave now, or we attack."

"But I'd like to stay," said Ingot. "I'd like to be in on whatever you're doing next. You're clearly so successful."

"How did you find us here, and how did you get in?"

"Magic," said Ingot, flashing another grin, wiggling his fingers around.

"You'd better magically disappear right now, then."

"What did I do to make you hate me so much?" whined Ingot, putting his hands to his eyes and pretending to wipe away tears.

"You abandoned the Dark Lord!" roared Dolohov. "You were not present for the Battle of Hogwarts! You did nothing while the greatest wizards of history died!"

"If I had known that Voldemort needed my help to defeat teenagers, I would have been by his side in a heartbeat," said Ingot, enjoying the twitch that occurred when he spoke the name. "You know how loyal I was. But it was nothing compared to how loyal my father was to Voldemort, or how loyal I am to my father. That was why I could not attend the Battle of Hogwarts. My father was dying and I needed to be by his side. It was a simple choice to make. I deemed my presence unnecessary. If you all combined were going to lose against children, I wouldn't have made much of a difference. So instead I chose to be with my father."

"The Dark Lord takes priority over your decrepit old man!" snarled Dolohov.

Ingot swiped his wandless hand through the air; the ground under Dolohov's chair heaved upward. Dolohov and his chair smashed into the ceiling and crashed back down onto the middle of the table, collapsing the table completely.

Eighteen Stunning Spells immediately flew at the attacker, but the stone wall underneath the windowsill opened up to swallow Ingot. The spells crashed through the window and sailed out into the night air. Dolohov groaned and picked himself up from the floor, extracting his wand as well.

"DO NOT," thundered Ingot from somewhere within the walls, "SAY A WORD AGAINST MY FATHER."

His voice echoed throughout the entire room; the Death Eaters looked around nervously, trying to find the source of the voice so that they could attack. But it was hopeless; the voice was coming at them from all directions.

"Get out of here _right now!_" howled Dolohov. "Or—"

"Or what?" scoffed Ingot. "If you haven't noticed, boys… no one respects you anymore. You ambushed a wedding _full_ of sitting ducks and didn't manage to achieve a paper cut on the pinky of a single partygoer! The Death Eaters are no longer a threat to anyone. But I can change that. I can change everything."

"What in the bloody hell are you talking about?"

"I have the power."

"What power?"

"Magic."

Dolohov cast a curse into the farthest wall, obliterating half of it; the ceiling dipped down in that direction, and there was groaning throughout the small house.

"Aw, the Lestrange brothers will be very sad if you wreck their little play-fort, Dolohov," said Ingot from somewhere else in the wall.

"THE LONGER YOU STAY, THE MORE PAINFUL YOUR DEATH WILL BE!" screamed Dolohov.

"All right, I'll go," said Ingot. "But before I go, I'd just like to extend one last offer."

"WE DO NOT ACCEPT!"

"Yet."

"GET OUT!"

"Listen: I, and only I, can bring fear back to the name of Death Eater. You can never hope to match up to the Ministry unless I lend you my power. Lucky for you, I am willing to do that… and I'm willing to give you a demonstration. I will shock the world within a week. I will destroy the Ministry within the month."

The Death Eaters all glanced at each other out of the corners of their eyes, shaking their heads. What had happened to Ingot's head while he was gone?

"You're mental," said Dolohov. "You're delusional and we have no desire to deal with you any longer."

"Aren't you listening?" said Ingot. "The desire will come. Soon you will come to my feet, begging me to return to your ranks and lead you. You cannot comprehend this now, but that is because no one can comprehend my power. Would you like to know what I was doing these past six years?"

"No," hissed Dolohov.

"Rhetorical question, I'm telling you anyway. My father, upon his deathbed, passed unto me a secret of incredible importance. His last wishes were that I should have the power that was always meant for my family, but which my father was unable to achieve. I have achieved that power now. I spent the last six years living in the natural world, exploring and honing my abilities. And now I have returned to display those abilities to the world. I grow stronger every day and I'm not afraid to flex."

The Death Eaters did not answer; they kept scanning the walls, looking for some sign of Ingot so that they could assault him.

"I don't have to prove anything to you," said Ingot. "I don't have to show you my power until I'll be using it anyway. You will see it along with the rest of the world. But the rest of the world will have no warning. I suggest you pick up the newspapers this week."

"Are you quite finished?" inquired Dolohov, his eyes darting to either side of the room.

"Yes, I am finished here," said Ingot. "Remember: I will shock the world within a week, and I will demolish the Ministry of Magic within the month. My offer will still stand afterwards, and I can't wait to see your faces when you realize that you _need_ to crawl back to me. But don't worry. If you decide later that you'd like to change your minds… I will find you. And so the game begins."

Ingot's laughter faded into the darkness, and Dolohov's fist curled around his wand so tightly he was in danger of snapping it. Though he was convinced Ingot was raving mad, some small part of him knew that the Death Eaters were a dying breed… and a display of power like Ingot was promising was exactly what they needed to regain control. But was it worth losing the power he had worked so hard to gain amongst so many potential candidates after the Dark Lord fell?

Yes, he supposed it was. After all, now it would be Ingot they'd be trying to kill instead of him.

They would just have to wait and see what Ingot could really do.

* * *

_Next chapter: "Sledgehammer." Harry's continued training as Head Auror is interrupted when Gallen Ingot makes good on his promise. I'll probably upload this chapter shortly after I finish my final exams, so a little over a week. After that, I'll probably be uploading a good amount over winter break._

_Again, if you'd like to ask a question in the reviews about something in the story, I'll answer it (as long as it's not a spoiler)._


	3. Sledgehammer

**_I thought this was an important two-part question that was asked, so I'm going to copy and paste it here if anyone wants to read it: it is in regards to why Malfoy and the other Death Eaters are still in the Death Eater ranks instead of out of harm's way/in Azkaban. You can also find this at the bottom of my profile in the Q&A section for The Dark Revival._**

_**Q: Vance McGill: **Can you explain why Lucius Malfoy is back amongst the Death Eaters? His fear of Voldemort, and what would happen to his family because of the Dark Arts drove him away. With a new Dark Lord, I can't exactly see him getting into the mix, since it would risk death or imprisonment for life. And some of these big named Death Eaters from the book... yeah, most of them were either killed or captured during or right after the Battle of Hogwarts. So either there was an enormous break-out, which would have the wizarding world on high guard, especially during the wedding in the first chapter or... well, some of canon is ignored.  
**A: **Glad you brought this up; I thought people would point it out. I'll put this question and its answer in the next chapter, too, because I think it's important. I have answers to both of your concerns. First, regarding Lucius Malfoy, he really isn't a good guy deep down. This is the guy who, in the Hall of Prophecy in the fifth book, was telling everyone to kill Harry's friends as long as they got the prophecy. He wanted to return to the Death Eater front, but he was afraid for his family. But not from Auror retribution: from Voldemort. Now that Voldemort's gone, he's not afraid to kill Muggles like he still wants to do, because Voldemort isn't threatening his son. But he is still concerned for his family when things get tough... he stopped coming to the Death Eater gatherings when the Aurors started picking up the pace. But I will be focusing Chapter 4 on the Malfoys, actually, so you'll see these thoughts in action. Secondly, about the Death Eaters during the Battle of Hogwarts-you see them overpowered, or Stunned or what have you, but you never actually see them taken into custody. It's very possible that after Voldemort fell, the Death Eaters revived their friends and fled. If someone is dead, I won't bring them back, but otherwise, if we didn't explicitly see them taken into custody, they're going to appear in this book, mostly because I didn't want to introduce a whole giant group of original characters for the Death Eaters, having already started doing that for the Aurors. Plus its added vengeance you want to see happen to them, because you already know they're killers. So maybe it's unlikely that everyone escaped, but it's possible. After all, it's only the people who were named. There were hundreds of people in Voldemort's army who were probably captured, but the important ones (the named ones) would certainly be rescued by the other Death Eaters with higher priority when they were fleeing. I try to stick as close to canon and its likely consequences as possible; going with this version, even if it's a __little_ less likely, makes for a better story overall.

_Hope that cleared some things up for others, too._

_Here's Chapter Three._

* * *

**chapter three**

**sledgehammer**

**friday, july 16, 2004**

"GODDAMNIT, POTTER, YOU AND YOUR _EXPELLIARMUS!_"

Megara Roy, Harry's mentor, was headed his way, shaking her head in frustration. Harry had just finished another training session by Disarming both of the Death Eater mannequins. She hated it when he used the Disarming Charm.

"I'm not going to kill anyone," said Harry resolutely, as always.

"I know you're not going to kill anyone," said Roy, shaking her head. She ran her fingers through her short, gray hair; she was barely out of her forties, but she had already grayed, likely due to her tough experiences in the Auror Office. Her severe face had wrinkled too early but her eyes had never lost their fire.

"But…" began Harry, sighing.

"But you've _got_ to start Stunning, at _least!_" groaned Roy. "Your enemies may have stowed another wand in their robes in case you Disarmed them—they may have the capability to hit you with wandless energy, which can be very dangerous for select individuals trained in wandless magic—"

"Wandless magic is so incredibly rare," retorted Harry, "and if they have another wand, it's not going to be as effective as the one that chose them. And just as soon as they could procure another wand, another Death Eater could revive them from the Stun."

It was the argument they had every time Harry used _Expelliarmus,_ and no one would win the argument.

"Regardless, Potter, I want to see you Stun," said Roy. "Because when the situation demands it, you're really going to need to use it."

"Meg, I need to get back to the reports," groaned Harry. "We've captured a large number of Death Eaters, and not only do I have to check out the reports on the captures, but I also need to put together the cases for when we send them to court—"

Roy whipped out her wand, and a large sledgehammer appeared in her left hand, which she wielded as easily as she would a broomstick. She waved it threateningly.

Harry turned back to the training center. When Roy got out her sledgehammer, nobody argued anymore. His arse was still sore from the first time she'd procured the hammer in front of him… he'd assumed she was bluffing about using it.

Roy restarted the training exercise. Three Death Eater mannequins popped up, in full garb and with faces painted on their smooth heads. They were too lifelike; Harry always felt bad about inflicting pain, even though the mannequins were designed not to feel pain. They were called "Likelifes," and they acted like real people—dodging curses, using tables as shields, grabbing fake Muggles and holding wands to their throats. The task was to rescue the Muggle mannequins, and if the observer (Roy) felt that Harry's performance wouldn't have held up against a real Death Eater, he was required to restart. He went through this training weekly, even during times of relative peace.

Harry Stunned one Death Eater Likelife and cast a Full Body-Bind upon another with relative ease. The third grabbed a Muggle Likelife and held a pointed stick to its throat. Harry tensed for a moment and cast the Disarming Charm at the Death Eater; the stick flew away and then he Stunned the Likelife.

"POTTER—"

"I Stunned it!" protested Harry as Roy advanced on him angrily with the sledgehammer. "I Stunned it afterwards! But Disarming is a quicker spell than the Stunner jet, so I did that one first!"

"Yes, but Potter, you leave a prime opportunity open for the Death Eater to snap that Muggle's neck with his hands, even if he doesn't have a wand!" raved Roy. Veins were bulging in her forehead. "You're too soft! The Death Eaters will take any opportunity you give them to cause any damage they can. Don't give them those opportunities! You don't want to kill but you give them a chance to do it? It makes you just as much of a murderer!"

"What do you propose I do in the situation I just encountered?"

"Think! Think for longer before deciding that your signature spell is the only option! Just because it is your signature spell does not mean that you're required to use it weekly! Watch—"

Roy revived the Death Eater Likelife, which sprang up and held another pointed stick to the Muggle's throat. She flicked her wand, and the Muggle sprang into the air, hoisted by its leg; she then Stunned the confused Death Eater.

"Levicorpus, Potter—get that Muggle out of danger and then you've got a free shot," she sighed. "You may be my superior, but I am your mentor and I've been here longer than you. Do it again and do it right."

"Again—? Meg, I've got work to do!"

"Then you'd better do it right this time!"

"I, for one," said Ron, strolling over casually, "think it's perfect that the main figurehead of the Auror Office is known for his reluctance to kill."

Roy rolled her eyes.

"Don't you think it gives the Auror Office a much better reputation?" asked Ron.

"Not if a slip-up costs us lives," said Roy. "Potter, you really need to know how to handle a situation where Disarming won't do the job. Please get it right next time. Go do your reports for now."

Harry turned away and marched to his office.

Ron followed, jogging to keep up with Harry's fast walk. "You know she just wants the best out of you."

"I know, I know," said Harry. "But it just eats at me. I saved Peter Pettigrew's life and Voldemort returns—but as a result, eventually, Voldemort was defeated for good. Will everything turn out that way in the end… or will there be some lives I just can't afford to spare?"

"I guess that's one of those unanswerable questions."

"I'll get Research and Development on answering that for me."

"Say again?" asked Braden Sage, strolling in. Sage was the head of Research and Development for the Auror Office.

"Hey, Sage," said Harry. "I don't actually have a job for R I was joking."

"Oh, good," said Sage. "Because we're swamped, you know, with this office Quidditch tournament that we're hosting because we're not actually doing anything."

"Well," chuckled Harry, "when you finished the HERMAN four times faster than we expected, that left you all with a lot of free time."

"Wait, the HERMAN is finished?" asked Ron excitedly. "That's awesome! That's… what's the HERMAN?"

"The High-capacity Emergency Relocating Method for Auror Necessity," explained Sage. "It's going to be our alternative to the Portkey. You know how a Portkey can only transport a number of people equal to the number of people who have cast the spell on the object in the first place?"

"Yes," said Ron, "and it's so tricky and the consequences for getting it wrong are so dangerous that very few people are given the authority to be able to make one… and if you don't have the authority, you can't even physically attempt to cast the spell. The Portkey won't work and the DMT will be carting you off to Azkaban instantly."

"That's right," said Sage. "When there's trouble afoot, we used to have to order fifty Portkey-makers to come down to the Auror Office so we can transport fifty Aurors away. But now, we can use HERMAN to get everyone there instantly, and all they have to do is touch each other."

"Kinky," said Ron.

Sage rolled his eyes. "Where's Jojo? He's on my team and our Quidditch match starts in ten."

"Not sure," said Harry. Looking down the hall, he saw Trixie Fado-Bitsis, a short, plump, rosy-cheeked woman with absurdly long eyelashes. She was the woman who oversaw most logistical procedures in the Auror Department, such as pay, vacation time, sick leave, and where to find anyone you asked. She accomplished the last responsibility by checking an enchanted roster that reminded Harry a bit of the Marauder's Map—he wondered if his father's friends, as members of the Order of the Phoenix, had helped develop it, but apparently that was confidential.

"Trixie, where's Jojo Monroe right now?" he called to her.

Trixie checked the Auror roster. "Sick leave," she called back.

Harry was startled. "Jojo is _never_ sick," he said, confused.

Trixie checked again. "Whoops—that was Mipsem. Sorry. Jojo Monroe is… down in R&D."

"Thank you, Trixie," said Harry.

She batted her eyelashes flirtatiously.

"Whoops, that probably means _he's_ looking for _me,_ too," laughed Sage. "Ta-ta, Harry. Good luck with all of the court cases coming up."

"Thanks," said Harry as Sage rushed off.

"HERMAN sounds really convenient," said Ron. "And how is the Swaplication project going along?"

"Also finished," said Harry. "Finished three years ago, actually."

"Ah," said Ron. "I'm a bit slow on the uptake."

"Just a bit."

"What's Swaplication again?"

Harry laughed and shook his head. "Ron—"

"EMERGENCY," blared a voice throughout the Auror Office. "EMERGENCY. MUGGLES IN IMMEDIATE DANGER. EMERGENCY."

Harry snapped into action. "Time to test out the HERMAN, I think," he said. "_Expecto Patronum._"

He sent out his silver stag Patronus. It sailed off in search of Monique Lumein, the Head Potioneer of the Auror Office. In addition to her duties as Potioneer, Lumein made announcements and declared states of emergency. Harry's Patronus found her quickly, and after delivering the message, Lumein's voice returned to the loudspeaker to state, "ALL AURORS IN SECTS A AND B, REPORT TO THE AURORS' ATRIUM."

Harry and Ron reached the Atrium first, and then a dozen Aurors poured in behind him.

"HERMAN, here!" he announced.

A pair of white-and-red shoes with little wings flew into the atrium just over everyone's heads. The laces were tied together, and the wings fluttered so fast it was difficult to see them.

"Everyone, this is HERMAN," said Harry. "This is our new method of transportation. We were going to have a briefing on its operation fairly soon, but as you can see, an emergency has risen, so you're just going to have to trust me. Everyone put a hand on the shoulder of a person closer to me than you are. Don't waste any time; we've got an emergency with Muggles in immediate danger."

After every Auror was connected, with the two closest people putting their hands on Harry's shoulders, Harry reached up.

"Hold on, everyone," he said, and he grasped the shoelace bow.

It felt just like traveling by a Portkey, but with less sense of actual direction. Sage was giving HERMAN directions as they traveled for efficiency. Soon they landed in a dark side street of a city, and most of the Aurors managed to stay on their feet.

Harry looked up, and his knees weakened.

Lumein hadn't been kidding about Muggles being in immediate danger.

Before them, about fifty yards away, there were five people, four adults and one child, bound and gagged, standing up straight in the middle of a courtyard. Harry assumed these were the Muggles. But the odd thing was that they were dressed like wizards, with robes and pointed hats. And hovering fifty feet above their heads was a boulder the size of a small house.

Harry motioned for everyone to start moving. He took out his wand and grimaced as he walked forward tentatively. Any moment, whoever was hovering that boulder could release it… but it seemed like they were waiting for something. Perhaps waiting for an Auror appearance?

As they approached the boulder, Harry's stomach sank further and further. The Muggles weren't just dressed like wizards—they were dressed like very specific wizards. One of them was wearing a red wig; the woman standing beside him had bushy brown hair. The other woman was wearing a longer red wig, and beside her was a man with scraggly black hair, given glasses and with a large scar in the shape of a lightning bolt cut into his forehead. It was clearly supposed to be Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. The little boy standing beside "Harry" looked to be only several months old, but had been forced to his tiny feet. He had been given the same glasses and lightning bolt scar; was this supposed to be James?

"Good evening, Aurors!" called a lively voice from somewhere in the sky.

The Aurors readied their wands, looking for the source. Then a man stood up on top of the hovering boulder.

He had straight brown hair and a darker, sicklier shade of skin than most. He was wearing a black robe, and was holding a Death Eater mask limply at his side. He was not holding a wand. Which meant… someone else was probably levitating the boulder, so there were probably other Death Eaters nearby.

"Don't bother looking for my friends," said the man on the rock. "I haven't got any yet. I'm trying to meet new people, but it's hard when you're usually killing them."

Harry tensed and got ready to strike. There was no wand to Disarm—he was going to have to Stun. But how would he rescue the Muggles this time? Would Roy know what to do?

Silently, the other Aurors set an Anti-Disapparition Jinx upon the area. Harry cleared his throat and prepared to address the man.

"Who are you?" he said loudly; they needed to keep up the conversation while a plan was devised for the rescue.

"My name is Gallen Ingot. How do you do, Auror Potter?"

"What are you doing?" said Harry.

"Standing on a rock," replied Ingot. "Oh, and killing people. That's become so commonplace I barely remember to mention it anymore."

Crystella Walker lashed out her wand, but nothing happened.

"You can't budge them," said Ingot. "Sorry to disappoint, but I'm far more powerful than all of you combined. All this power… it's a burden, you know. With this kind of power, you're really required to take over as much of the world as you can, or you're really a waste of magic."

"Let these people go, or face the consequences," demanded Harry. "We're not going to ask again."

"What are you going to do, Harry Potter?" asked Ingot. "Disarm me?"

Harry twitched angrily.

"Well, I'm afraid you'll literally have to relieve me of my arms to Disarm me, as I haven't got a wand on me right now. But that's okay. I don't need one."

"You expect us to believe you're floating that thing bare-handed?" asked Harry. "Where are the other Death Eaters?"

"Snug in their beds, dreaming of sugar-plums," mused Ingot. "I'm here as a messenger. You won't like my message, and I encourage you to kill the messenger in this case, because I'm excited to see your attempts."

"And what message would that be?"

"It goes something like this," said Ingot. He cleared his throat. "Hi, there, I'm Gallen Ingot and I'm going to kill all of you. Here is a demonstration. Sorry that our first meeting was so short, but believe me, we'll be seeing a lot of each other soon. Love, me."

_Here is a demonstration?_

"NO!" shouted Harry, as Ingot back-flipped off of the rock, dove straight down through the ground, and disappeared. The rock above the Muggles began to drop; they screamed through their gags and tried to jump free.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!" bellowed the fourteen Aurors at once, but the rock didn't even slow down slightly; it came down with the force of a sledgehammer.

The half-squish-half-crunch that followed was sickening. Harry threw his hands in front of his face as blood splattered all over the robes of the horrified Aurors.

* * *

_Next chapter: "Whose Blood Is This?" Harry makes a visit to an old enemy, Draco Malfoy, and tries to convince him to assist the Aurors in finding Ingot._


	4. Whose Blood Is This?

_**At the very bottom of my profile, if you haven't seen this yet, you'll find Q&A's** for all questions I could answer without spoilers. So, feel free to ask a question in the review! I'll answer it if I can do so without spoiling anything._

_**If you were considering reading my Albus Potter series**, but were waiting for me to finish uploading Book 4 before beginning your read, it may interest you to know that **the last chapter of Book 4 is to be uploaded on Saturday!**_

* * *

**chapter four**

**whose blood is this?**

**friday, july 16, 2004**

Draco opened his eyes slowly. The night wind around Malfoy Manor caused its usual whisper, but another sound was disturbing the peaceful darkness.

There were frantic whispers downstairs. His mother and father were arguing again, no doubt. But in the middle of the night? And downstairs, not in their bedroom? What were they doing down there—unless his father was thinking about—

He threw his bedsheets to the side and leapt to his feet. Quickly charming his sleepwear into a shirt and pants, he hurried down the stairs and strode towards the front door, in front of which he found his parents.

"—all I see is a shattered promise tossed aside!" finished his mother before they both turned to glance at the new arrival.

"Draco," drawled his father, "leave us. This doesn't concern you."

"It obviously concerns me to great measure," said Draco, trying to keep himself calm. "I wouldn't have lifted myself out of bed and come down here to interrupt your conversation if it didn't 'concern' me. You aren't thinking of leaving again—are you, Father?"

"_It doesn't concern you,_" snarled Lucius. "Leave us now."

"You see?!" shrieked Narcissa, no longer bothering to stay quiet. "Your son wants you to stay. Your wife wants you to stay. You are outvoted, Lucius, and I hope you don't value your own selfish desires over either one of us, let alone both of us combined!"

"You know full well that 'my desires' are not at work here!" said Lucius.

"What other explanation have you got?" snapped Draco.

"I have always done what is right for my family!" roared Lucius, rounding on his son. "I led you both out of the Battle of Hogwarts alive and free; do not forget that! But that was when the Dark Lord was in power, and I could not follow him when he threatened you. Now we have a new leader—one who may be more powerful than the Dark Lord himself. And he will lead us to a world that will be better for us—for you—for your future children, Draco! Do you wish to have them grow up in a world where Muggles are our _equals?_"

"I wish to have them grow up!" shot Draco. "I'm not sure they'll get that chance if you involve yourself in this again!"

"You think that if you have a family now, they'll be any better off?" said Lucius, advancing on Draco again. "You think they'll have such an easy, wonderful life, do you? Try getting a job, Draco. Try finding any of your children a job. The world despises us, despite my apparent defection away from the Dark Lord. You give any of your children the last name of Malfoy and they'll be maligned for life. Is that what you want for your family? It is not what I wish for mine. Never call me selfish, Narcissa. I am going to meet with Ingot so that we can free our family again."

"Free?!" screeched Narcissa. "Free—soon to be under constant surveillance? Soon to be captured and brought to the Auror Office for information on your movements? Do you call this free? Do you honestly think this Ingot man will win, and you will prance in the fields watered with Muggle blood? DO YOU HONESTLY THINK THIS WON'T BRING A WORSE PLAGUE UPON OUR NAMES AND LIVES?"

Shaking his head, Draco walked out of the room, but he stood close by to continue listening.

"In order for us to win," said Lucius, "and in order for us to achieve the world of which we have been dreaming—the Death Eaters need to unite everyone they can. If no one contributes to the cause, of course we will not win! But if we can inspire everyone to take back what we've lost, then we _can_ change the world."

"Good luck changing the world from Azkaban, then!" screamed Narcissa. "It took me _six years _to convince you to stop attending their monthly gatherings, and you only finally stopped because the Aurors finally threw down the gauntlet! You'll soon be in Azkaban, too, mark my words! Most of your friends from the old days already are!"

"Gallen Ingot apparently says that's not for long," said Lucius.

"Gallen Ingot says this—Gallen Ingot says that—and your wife says different! Are you married to Gallen Ingot, Lucius? Would you like to be?"

"Narcissa—"

"Because I cannot be married to you for much longer if you—"

"NARCISSA—"

"LUCIUS—"

Draco shook his head again as his parents began shouting over each other, neither one audible. After about five full minutes of this, they seemed to have shouted themselves out, and they stood there, breathing heavily. Then they began to whisper.

Draco walked himself back up to his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, wondering what would happen. Would his father rejoin the Death Eaters once again and bring the Aurors looking for their family, and would his mother finally leave? Would his father shun the Death Eaters and then decide that they needed to leave before the Death Eaters hunted them down and killed them for not joining?

By that logic he hoped his father would rejoin the Death Eaters. Betraying the Aurors might land his father in Azkaban, but his father alone, and at least they would all be alive. Betraying the Death Eaters would get them all killed.

He listened for some time, and then when the whispers finally stopped, he heard the front door opening. He rose from his bed and walked to the hall as he heard the door shut again, and he looked out the window—both of his parents were leaving.

_Wonder what he said to her,_ thought Draco, twisting his lip.

Were they headed to the Death Eaters' gathering? Were they running away to a safer place, a safer country? No—they would have brought him. Were they just going for a walk to talk about it?

Draco yawned and stood by the window for a few minutes. His parents didn't return. He walked back to his room and changed his clothes again. Sighing, he climbed back into bed.

He hadn't even rested his head on the pillow when there was a loud knock on the door.

Draco groaned and threw the covers off again. Evidently his parents had forgotten to take the key when they left. He transformed his clothes again and took his time meandering down to the door as another loud knock pierced the near silence of their house. He threw open the door, and a most unexpected face was looking at him.

"Hello, Draco," said Harry Potter, scar, glasses, and all. The light from inside the house illuminated his robes, which were covered in dried blood.

Draco stared at him for a few seconds.

Then he slammed the door shut.

It didn't close all the way; Harry's foot was stuck in the door.

Draco opened the door again and sneered at him. "Too much work to charm the door open, Potter? Had to use your foot like a bloody Muggle, didn't you?"

"I didn't charm the door open because I thought it would be rude."

"Manners don't change the fact that an Auror is making a house call. I know exactly why you're here but you're wasting your time. My parents are out."

"I know," said Harry. "I waited for them to leave because I wanted to talk to you."

Draco glared at him. "I'm involved in nothing that would get me into trouble with the Ministry," he said, eye twitching. "I've told that to the Aurors who have been here before. Where are your friends? Tell them you're out of luck; I haven't got anything to show you or tell you. Now leave."

He slammed the door as hard as he could.

"Ow—bloody hell, Draco, my foot is still in there!"

"I know," said Draco simply.

"Listen to me."

"I'd rather not."

"Listen to me, Draco! The Auror Office has been working hard to keep peace in the world lately. But now we've got a bigger job ahead of us. There's someone else in the picture now. I'm sure you've heard his name—Gallen Ingot?"

"I'm sure I haven't."

"I'm sure you have," repeated Harry.

"What is your point?" growled Draco.

"I'm getting to that. I have an awful feeling that dreadful things are about to start happening. This man Ingot appears to be unbelievably powerful—he has to be to perform wandless magic to the effect he has achieved, overpowering many Aurors in the process. But we took down Voldemort and we're going to defeat Ingot, no matter how long it takes. My point is that this could turn into another war. Another long, grueling war with many casualties. A lot of people are going to die, Draco. A lot of people on both sides are going to die. Unless you help me."

"_Ha!_"

Draco laughed out loud, one sharp laugh that reverberated through the trees and scared the peacocks out of their sleep.

"You want me to help you?" he simpered. "Are you raving mad? You want me to give aid to the Aurors? Shall I slice my own neck while I'm at it?"

"We can protect you—"

Draco laughed again, and threw the door shut once more.

This time, Harry had his wand out, and the door swung open before it stopped on his foot.

"How rude," said Draco.

"So many people are going to die, Draco, but you can prevent it," said Harry patiently. "How many people will die before you realize you could have prevented the conflict from escalating just by telling us the simple fact of where we can find Ingot? I know you know, or at least your parents do. Ron tried to follow them, but they've Disapparated. Four people have already died, just today. Four Muggles who we couldn't save—"

Draco snorted.

"—and soon it will be wizards, ones you know and love," said Harry. "Why are you still living with your parents, Draco? Why haven't you moved in alone—are you afraid for your life? Why do you have to be? Once we put an end to Death Eater activity you'll be safer than you've ever been in your life. All you have to do is tell me one little detail—where we can find Ingot—and your family is guaranteed safety. No one will know what you've told me. Draco, you have the power to stop a potential war from blooming, and the ramifications will eventually come back to haunt you."

"Get out of here, Potter."

Harry glowered at him for a moment, but took his foot out of the door. "If this conflict escalates," he murmured dangerously, "and if people you know and love begin to die before your eyes, you will know exactly whose fault it is. Yours. Eventually we will defeat this enemy, but we could stop him before anything starts, and save countless lives, if you would just—"

"Do you really think I care how many animals are going to die?" hissed Draco, moving to slam the door shut again.

Harry slammed the door all the way open again, and showed Draco his robes, covered in crusted blood. "Whose blood is this, Draco?" he asked. "Whose blood is this? Muggle? Muggle-born? Pure-blood? Half-blood? Tell me! If the blood of other wizards isn't as pure as yours, shouldn't you be able to tell?"

Draco walked away from the door and began to climb the stairs. This man couldn't be reasoned with.

"Soon it's going to be yours!" roared Harry, his voice growing fainter as Draco climbed to the second floor. "Soon it's going to be your blood on my robes, and it will look exactly like this, and you'll be no different than a Muggle when you're dead! Is that what you want to be? Just a splatter of blood on my robes when I ask the next person to help me? You're no murderer, Draco. I was on top of the Astronomy Tower the night you were supposed to kill Dumbledore. But you're going to kill a lot more people if you don't help me now!"

Draco walked to his room and slammed the door to his room, but he could still hear Potter's shouts echoing through the house.

"No matter which side you're on, Draco, you're marked—you're marked worse than a lightning scar! So mark my words: the deaths are going to start getting closer and closer to you! Believe me—I know! End it before it begins, Draco! Before everyone you care about is killed, followed shortly by yourself!"

_But I don't care about anyone,_ thought Draco, a sneer curling his lip as he prayed Potter would go away. _Not even me. And even if I did know where they were meeting, I still wouldn't tell the likes of _you,_ Potter. That would get me killed faster than you were predicting, so why bother?_

Potter's shouts ceased, and the echoes faded fast until they blended with the sounds of the night wind. Then the wind died down, and there was utter silence, which was in fact harder to ignore.

The silence lasted for hours, until his parents returned, heralded by the loud slamming of the door.

"Draco?" shouted Lucius up the stairs.

"Yes, Father?" replied Draco, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.

"Why was the door open?"

Draco walked over to the top of the stairs. "I fancied a breeze."

"Is anyone else in here?"

"No, Father."

"There had better not be."

"There isn't."

Lucius walked up the stairs and moved in very close to Draco to whisper into his ear.

"Your mother requested to attend the meeting, to see things for herself," said Lucius. "She has requested I not attend the meetings again. I will respect her wishes. I will not become involved."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "And you'll keep that promise, will you?"

"Yes," said Lucius. "We will offer assistance to no one. We will remain neutral. But if Gallen Ingot comes requesting my services—I will have to accept, to protect you both from the wrath we could not otherwise hold back. Do you understand?"

"_I_ understand just fine," scoffed Draco. "Does Mother understand?"

"Yes," said Lucius. "Now we are all understood, and we need not discuss it further."

Draco was still feeling great suspicion. He knew his father's thirst for power and blood. If anything, he had probably struck this deal with his mother knowing that Ingot would certainly come knocking on their door, asking him to join the Death Eaters once more. This deal had been rigged from the start. His father knew perfectly well that he would be back under a hood and mask soon, and no one was going to stop him. But that was fine by him—the other option was death by Death Eater.

Draco cleared his throat as his father turned and began to walk towards his and Narcissa's bedroom. "Excuse me, Father," he said, "but you have a Sopophorous flower petal in your hair."

Lucius brushed his fingers through his long blond hair, which was tangled at unusual levels for his constantly preening father. He snagged the petal in question, seized it and threw it onto the ground. He eyed Draco curiously and then disappeared through the door to his bedroom.

Draco glanced down at the petal on the ground. He remembered Sopophorous plants from Potions in his sixth year, but had only ever seen them growing wild during his visits to the house of the Notts. Theodore Nott's family grew these plants for use in certain potions, which they sold as a cover for their Dark activities. Draco had visited their house a few times. He remembered always being cold, even in the warmer months, because the Notts lived in the mountains in the middle of nowhere. And it was always so bloody windy—windy enough to ruin his father's perfect hair, or rip petals off of a flower and blow them onto the passersby…

But windiness and gardening skills were no concern of Potter's.

* * *

_Next chapter: "The Dark Revival." Ingot attempts to fulfill the second half of his promise: that he would destroy the Ministry of Magic within the month._


	5. The Dark Revival

_**Generally, the chapters in multiples of 5 will be slightly longer, and will advance the plot more.** This will be more so the case as we advance through the story, but of course towards the end every chapter will be crucial. If you don't review often, I would really appreciate perhaps at least a review every five chapters. Please let me know how I'm doing-what you'd like to see more and what you'd like to see less, what your favorite parts have been so that I can write more scenes/styles like that, and anything else. **It really helps me out when you take a few seconds to review!**_

_Oh, and by the way, there are a lot of Aurors in this story-**you don't have to keep track of the names of every single Auror if you don't want to.** If any of them become more important later on, you'll know who they are by then._

* * *

**chapter five**

**the dark revival**

**thursday, july 29, 2004**

"There was another Muggle with hallucinations of magical activity yesterday," said Harry, adjusting his glasses on his nose as he went through the orders of business for the day. "Could be routine, but we need to send two people to check. Who wants to go?"

Nobody raised their hands, as usual.

"Don't make me go to rotations again," sighed Harry, scratching his sideburns.

"Harry, this is a job for the IUMO," said Lannica, sighing with him. "Why are we getting stuck with it?"

"The Improper Use of Magic Office," recited Harry dully, "is experiencing unprecedented levels of activity—"

"Like, unprecedentedly low levels of activity from their employees?" grumbled Duncan, sardonic as always.

"—and given that the Auror Office has recently seen a bump in numbers due to the emergence of a new threat, they hoped we could spare some of those numbers."

"Are they completely half-witted?" asked Nichelle Silver, rubbing her eyes and yawning. "The reason the Auror Office grew is so that more people could fight the growing threat. We need these growing numbers to face the growing threat, obviously."

"No one wants to go babysit a Muggle with dementia," huffed Kimilla Devine.

Harry shook his head and continued. "Furthermore, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement needs four volunteers to assist the filing of old paperwork—"

"Are you serious?"

"You've got to be fucking kidding me…"

"Is this a joke?"

"Honestly, Harry?"

The shouts were piling up; Harry slammed the papers on the table in front of him, and everyone shut up rather quickly.

"Fine then, we'll go to rotations if you can't sit quietly for long enough to get through one goddamn minute of announcements!" he barked.

He grabbed a piece of paper off of the wall behind him, patience thinning as he read the names.

"Karen Kangle and Allison Lannica, you're on Jerry Paxton, the Muggle," said Harry, and raised his voice as Lannica and Kangle began voicing their complaints. "Silas Lamb, Lev Logan, Vivian Long, Neville Longbottom, you're on filing papers. Lara Mipsem, Jojo Monroe, Gustavo Nostrello, Noralee Olcha, you're on the debriefing commission for the rest of the DMLE. Everyone else, you can sort through our possible leads and choose what you want to follow up on. Get to it!"

Neville walked by with a drooping frown. "You couldn't've bumped me to the debriefing, Harry? Honestly… paperwork?"

"I'm sorry, Neville, it's rotations," said Harry. "This month is alphabetical and I can't change your last name. That's favoritism."

Neville walked away sullenly.

Harry groaned in Ron's direction. "Damnit," he whispered. "I hate this. I hate having to assign things like that when no one volunteers."

"I think you handled it exactly the way you should have," said Ron. "If you keep letting people talk when you're talking, soon they're going to be walking all over you when you're trying to walk, too. You gotta lay down the law."

"But my authority is so weak here," said Harry. "Almost every Auror here is older than me. A good number of them are nearly twice my age if not older than that. Everyone thinks I shouldn't be in charge."

"You're too paranoid," said Ron. "Not everyone thinks that. Some, do, sure, but screw them."

"Hi Harry," said Petey Pert, walking daintily by. "Thankth for not putting me on paperwork, darling."

"It's alphabetical," called Harry as Petey skipped away.

"He totally is," whispered Ron, nudging Harry.

"He is _not_ in love with me," laughed Harry.

"Did you hear the way he said 'darling?' He was swooning."

"Harry, please remind the Dimly that the Auror Office is not a large collection of secretaries," called Logan as he walked by.

Harry stared after the gray-haired man and looked to Ron. "What's the Dimly?"

"You haven't heard it called that?" asked Ron. "The Dimly is what some people are starting to call the DMLE. They're pronouncing the acronym like a word: D-M-L-E might be pronounced 'Dimly.' It's fitting because they're all morons."

"That's clever," said Harry. "But aren't we part of the Dimly? The Auror Office?"

"Technically yes, but I think they're referring to the guys who oversee the whole department."

"Right. They're not the brightest Bluebells in the jar."

"Their heads are probably full of Wrackspurts," said Ron, winking.

"Ah, I miss Luna," said Harry, smiling with the memories that emerged from Ron's reference. "Where is she right now, again? Mexico?"

"Right. Studying the experimentally bred dragons that were released into the wild, along with the Mexican Froslip and the Chupacabra."

"Who the hell experimentally breeds dragons," laughed Harry, "let alone releases them into the wild? I feel bad for the Mexican magical law enforcement."

"I feel bad for our law enforcement," said Ron.

"Well, there are rumors that Saiyon is retiring," said Harry optimistically.

"Yes, but there are also rumors that his son will succeed him," said Ron pessimistically. "If Tauron Saiyon was bad, Hal is worse."

"Hal… I remember meeting him. He looked stoned out of his mind."

"He's always stoned out of his mind. He doesn't take anything seriously. We don't need a head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement who doesn't take things seriously."

Harry nodded. "Maybe I should go talk to Saiyon," he said. "Even if he doesn't stop assigning the Auror Office these mundane tasks when we're supposed to be hunting Death Eaters, at least I can say I tried to get him to stop."

"So that you can win over the other Aurors?" asked Ron, elbowing him. "I see, Harry, I see—and after all that talk about not playing the public opinion game? I thought you had vowed to stamp out corruption with Kingsley."

"I'm—I'm not!" sputtered Harry indignantly. "I mean—that's not the point—"

"Sure it isn't."

"That's entirely different!" argued Harry. "I'm not just doing this to try and 'win over' the Aurors. If what I think is right coincides with what everyone else thinks, then I have a right to let them know I'm trying to assist! That's not the same as trying to make people think I'm more effective than I really am!"

"Okay, calm down, Harry," said Ron. "I understand your point. I was making a joke. A bad joke, I suppose."

Harry dragged his hand down his face. "Yes. I'm going to go talk to Saiyon."

"We would definitely appreciate it," said Ron. "And we would NOT accuse you of pandering to us. I promise."

"That's encouraging," said Harry. "I'm going right now."

"You go, Harry!"

"You go, Harry!" echoed Traelie, passing by. "Yeah! …You go where?"

"He's going to go ask Saiyon to stop passing on these trivial little tasks to the Auror Office."

Traelie lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Oh, lay it _to_ him, Scar!" she said, pumping a fist. "Tell them I'm sick of filing papers for them and that they can file all their papers right up their arse section."

"I'll… word it exactly like that," said Harry, grinning.

Traelie saluted him and walked away.

"If Saiyon doesn't budge, I may go to Kingsley," said Harry. "I mean… this is ridiculous. Logan was right. We're not their secretaries. Just because not all of us are in the field all at once doesn't mean we have time to kill alphabetizing things."

"I totally agree," said Ron. "Are you going now?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Harry. "Make sure everyone's sticking to the rotations I assigned, if you would."

"I'll let you know who's slacking off," said Ron, cutting a finger across his throat. "See you soon."

Harry ambled out of the Auror Office, through the hallway that led to the lifts. He rode up to the first floor, which housed the Minister for Magic and support staff. There were rooms for the Head of each Department; as Harry was only the head of one office within one department, he had to report to Saiyon, who reported to Kingsley. Tauron Saiyon headed the heads of each office within the DMLE; he was the highest ranking individual in the DMLE. As the DMLE was the largest department by far in the Ministry, Saiyon was probably answerable only to Kingsley and his higher support staff. Some, though, speculated that the Department of Mysteries was even more powerful, simply because their dealings were so secret that they answered to no one.

Harry knocked on the door of Saiyon's office.

"Come in," said a bright voice.

Harry opened the door and walked into the dark and poorly decorated office. The desk was very old and very white, much like the man sitting behind it, but the walls were off-yellow rather like his teeth. At a strikingly less cluttered desk to Saiyon's left was his secretary, Kussea, who glared at Harry as if he'd interrupted something. Upon seeing her vibrantly red lipstick, and then noticing a streak of the exact same red color on Saiyon's tie, Harry realized he had almost definitely interrupted something… but at least he hadn't walked in on it.

Saiyon folded his fingers together. "Harry Potter, my boy," he said pleasantly. "How may I assist you today?"

"Sir," said Harry with purpose, "I have a request."

"A request… well, that depends upon the request," said Saiyon. "If it's funding, then we could certainly discuss it, but if it's something like, say, asking me to stop assigning the Auror Office their duties for helping around the office… then I'm afraid we wouldn't be able to discuss that."

Harry sighed; Saiyon had known exactly why he'd come.

"Sir, it is in fact in regards to the mundane work you've been assigning the Aurors. We—"

"Then I'm afraid we can't discuss it," said Saiyon simply, shuffling some papers in front of him. "It was nice talking with you. The door is just behind you."

"I'm afraid I'm not done talking yet," said Harry as calmly as possible. "Sir, perhaps we could arrange a way for us to make up the work during times of peace? I understand that every office must chip in to the general duties, but when we need all the manpower we can get to hunt the Dark Wizards out there—"

"Potter, there will _always_ be Dark Wizards out there," said Saiyon, folding his arms and using his stupid fake-sweet voice that Harry hated. "When I'm hearing you say that you'd like to put off your office's share of the department's work until there aren't any Dark Wizards out there, understand that what I'm hearing you say is that you refuse to give your employees any work until there isn't a single Dark Wizard left. There will always be Dark Wizards, Potter—"

"Sir, the situation is dire, and we—"

"—and if it's up to _you_ to decide whether the situation is dire, then of course you will claim it is dire at any given opportunity to avoid giving your employees any work."

"You cannot honestly be suggesting that Gallen Ingot is not a dire threat?"

"A few Muggles have died, Potter, and that is all," said Saiyon. "Don't get me wrong—a life is precious and it's too bad—but honestly, any wizard could shred through dozens of Muggles before getting caught; it's not that difficult. Any Dark Wizard, dire threat or no, would be able to kill a couple of Muggles. That to me does not signify a national emergency worth reassessing our entire department structure."

"Saiyon, our current Minister used to be an Auror," said Harry, finally deciding that he had to go over Saiyon's head. "I'm trying to reason with you so that I don't have to go straight to the Minister, but I will if I must. You don't imagine he'll understand the importance of stopping this before it does become a dire threat?"

"I thought you might suggest that," said Saiyon, putting his hands behind his head and relaxing backwards in his chair, not affected in the slightest by Harry's comment. "But Potter, Minister Shacklebolt has other things on his mind. One of those other things is the support of all of the Department Heads. If we go lenient on your office, letting you skip your share of the paperwork, then _every_ office will begin complaining that their paperwork is second to dealing with the current 'threat.' If this happens, the paperwork will _never_ get done. And the Department Heads would be very angry at whoever started it, and whoever allowed it to occur. I wouldn't suggest going to the Minister if you're cozy in your position. The only thing it will accomplish is even stricter restrictions on getting the work done, and you will be under a lot of heat for causing that, in addition to causing the back-up of paperwork that will occur after all the complaining."

"Saiyon, you're suggesting that the other offices have jobs that are equally important to hunting down the Dark Wizards causing the problem," said Harry. "Even accounting for my pro-Auror bias as Head Auror, I doubt anyone would suggest they have as much of a role to play in the coming conflict as we do."

"Potter," said Saiyon in his fake-sweet voice, gesturing around at the office. "I don't know about you… but I see no conflict."

Harry was about to say something about the fact that the conflict was not likely to take place in Saiyon's very office, but he was cut off when the wall behind Saiyon exploded.

Harry had the fastest Shield Charm in the office, and he was able to protect Saiyon against the chunks of rock that came flying out of the wall. Kussea squeaked and Disapparated with a crack.

"What in the hell?!" shouted Saiyon, and he took his wand out as well.

The dust cleared from the wall, and they got a clear view of the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Gallen Ingot was standing in the center of the first-level atrium.

Ingot flexed his arms, and he punched the air in front of him. The wall to the right of the atrium exploded in another shower of rocks. Ingot flexed his arm, and the wall opposite from Harry and Saiyon burst apart as well, followed shortly by the wall to their left. Harry stood transfixed, watching the incredible display of power, because Ingot still wasn't holding a wand. Ingot turned around and looked straight at them.

"Good evening, boys," he said. "I'm just doing a bit of remodeling here. I think most of these rooms look better without their walls, don't you agree? Much like all of you will look much better without your skin."

In a flash, he had out a wand, and he cast a blast of Dark Magic straight at Harry and Saiyon.

Harry's instincts picked up on the spell immediately: it had a green jet with tinges of red here and there. His thoughts outraced the spell, and he grabbed Saiyon's robes, pulling him downwards so that the curse flew over their heads.

The spell that Ingot had fired was a popular choice among powerful Death Eaters; it was a curse that caused intense burning pain, and it could be blocked neither by spell nor physical object. But Harry had never seen it cast without its incantation spoken aloud.

"_Deprimo!_" shouted Saiyon, blowing a hole in the ground; he tumbled into the second floor, landing ironically into Harry's office below. He landed hard on Harry's desk. Harry jumped down after him, cushioning his own landing on the carpet while Saiyon roared in pain and clutched his leg. "Do something!" he howled as a piercing alarm blared through the Ministry.

"I don't think I can possibly duel him," said Harry. "I don't know if anyone can."

There was another explosion outside Harry's office; Ingot was working his way down through the Ministry and destroying every floor. Harry looked above to see a raging fire beginning to consume the first level of the Ministry. He didn't know how Ingot had managed to work his way into the Ministry, but he could assume that the man had probably brought others.

"Get the Aurors on it!"

Harry couldn't help but yell it: "Sorry, Saiyon! They're all busy doing your goddamned _paperwork!_"

"POTTER, THIS ISN'T THE TIME—WE NEED TO—"

Traelie and Adelaide burst into Harry's office. Traelie's face, lit from above by the fire, was fierce and determined, but Harry shook his head.

"Don't go after him," warned Harry. "He's like nothing I've ever seen—"

The wall behind Harry exploded; he had been expecting it, and threw another Shield Charm in front of himself and Saiyon. A brick from the wall of Harry's office spun through the air and smacked Adelaide right in the face before Harry's Shield Charm could expand to protect her; she yelped and stuffed her robes into her nose as she began to bleed profusely.

"I'm getting out of here!" squealed Saiyon, turning on the spot and Disapparating.

"Harry!" yelled Traelie, aiming her wand at Ingot; but she didn't have time to react before Ingot swished his hand downwards and the ceiling collapsed on top of them. No, it wasn't just the ceiling—ten tons of rock from above the Ministry collapsed down on them, and Harry knew it was hopeless unless—

He grabbed Traelie and Adelaide, and spun on the spot.

They squeezed through the tight rubber tube of the world between Apparitions, and spilled onto a cool white floor. The walls were also stark white in color. There were decorations in the room that looked exactly like the setup of Harry's office, except that everything was made out of white stone. The only thing that was missing from the room to make it exactly the same as Harry's office was Harry himself—and he had just arrived. The blood on the ground from Adelaide's nose was the only color apart from their bodies.

Traelie screamed as she examined their new surroundings. "HOLY FUCK!" she screamed, clawing at her mouth. "HOLY FUCK—AM I DEAD? IS THIS DEATH? I'M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!"

"You're nearly twenty-five, Traelie," said Harry. "I died when I was seventeen. And we're not dead—we're in the second Ministry. _Expecto Patronum!_"

Harry sent his silver stag through the wall.

"The _second_ Ministry?" said Traelie. "Since when have there been two, and why does the second look like a mental hospital gone mental?"

"Wheh'd you sedd you Patodus?" asked Adelaide thickly through the blood in her nose.

"My Patronus?" asked Harry to confirm, and Adelaide nodded. "To the Ministry, to try and get the executives to call for a full evacuation. I think we're going to have to start the Swaplication—the emergency drill we've prepared in the case of the destruction of the Ministry."

"I always wondered what that emergency drill was," said Traelie, looking around. "What do we have to do now that we're here?"

"Nothing," said Harry. "We just have to tell everyone else to get the hell out."

"Ha-ee, it jut wud guy!" shouted Adelaide, waving her wand around.

"What?" said Harry, nonplussed.

"I think she said, 'Harry, it's one guy,'" said Traelie, and Adelaide nodded vigorously. "And she's right! Why are we evacuating the whole Ministry? Why aren't we fighting?!"

"The ceiling caved in," said Harry.

"The ceiling caved—so what?! Put it back and keep at him!"

"You don't understand," said Harry. "That ceiling is surrounded by some of the most powerful defensive charms the world has to offer. Ingot and his men have probably been at our defenses for weeks if not months, chewing them away while we were none the wiser. He's already destroyed everything—he's just toppling the dominoes now. There's nothing we can do to save the building if he's already gone this far. Swaplication is the only way to save the Ministry now."

"What _is_ Swaplication?" asked Traelie.

Suddenly, Harry's desk glowed bright blue. Traelie jumped back, ready to attack, but then the desk disappeared and was almost instantly replaced with Harry's actual desk from the actual Ministry of Magic. It was covered with burns. One by one, other artifacts in the white version of Harry's office began glowing blue and disappearing, to be replaced by his actual belongings.

"We created an exact replica of the Ministry in an undisclosed location," said Harry. "We placed objects in here, enchanted to exactly represent their clones in the offices. When we activate Swaplication, every object will switch places with its clone—everything from the Ministry will be saved, and business can resume as usual."

"And Ingot will find himself destroying a Ministry that looks an awful lot like this room did when we first arrived?" guessed Traelie.

"Exactly," said Harry. "Anything that's too damaged won't swap, so we may be left here with a lot of walls made out of white rock… but we should get most of our belongings back. We could _not,_ for example, allow Ingot to break into the Department of Mysteries. I don't know much about that place, but I do know it wouldn't be good if he got his paws in there."

"Harry!" yelled Genevieve Baronson, the head of the Obliviator Headquarters, running into his office. "Harry, it's Swaplication! Holy shit, Adelaide, are you okay?"

"Fide," muttered Adelaide.

"Another brick to the face," explained Traelie. "That's kind of becoming her thing."

"Harry, I did not think we would ever have to activate Swaplication," said Baronson, biting her nails.

Harry's desk chair appeared, and it had apparently been just set afire; flames began to spread all over the chair. He turned around and blew out the fire with a cold wind, and grimaced at the burn marks over most of his belongings. Blue lights were appearing constantly outside Harry's office. He opened the door just as it turned into his actual door, and saw walls and doors appearing in color everywhere he looked.

"We'll get through it, but I'm not pleased about what this means for the future," said Harry. "We're dealing with an enemy capable of destroying the whole of the Ministry without being detected, and with no resistance."

"At least he's straightforward about it," said Baronson. "Rather than silently taking over the Ministry like Voldemort? I kind of prefer this direct approach to the sneaky one."

"There's that," said Harry, shuddering.

"I was here for both of Voldemort's rises," said Baronson. "Let me tell you; it wasn't pretty. Neither is this, but we can rebuild, and attack the source. Can't we?"

"We'll have to find him first," said Harry. "I'm not sure how possible that's going to be."

"Follow the bricks hitting Adelaide's face," said Traelie.

"Ha-ha," said Adelaide, finally taking magic to her nose to try and fix it.

Harry looked over at his doorway as he noticed movement; Kingsley was standing there unexpectedly.

"We have a slight problem on our hands," he said in his usual slow, deep voice.

"No fucking kidding," said Traelie, running her fingers through her hair.

Kingsley looked away and stepped to the side; Saiyon burst into the office.

"Potter," he said, leaning on his knees to catch his breath. "Perhaps we could resume that discussion about the paperwork?"

* * *

_**Please remember to review;** it would be an awesome Christmas present to me! Tell me what you've liked least/best so far or what you want to see in the future._

_Next chapter: "Riddle Me This." Ingot revisits the Death Eaters to let them reconsider his offer._


	6. Riddle Me This

_Well, I promised I wouldn't go three weeks without an update, so since today is three weeks from the last update I figured I should post the chapter now._

_Generally, this is how the story will be set up: **I'll be uploading five chapters roughly one per week, then taking a little break after the fifth. Mostly, every fifth chapter will be a bit longer and a bit more important; though towards the end, every chapter will be important.** Uploads for this five-chapter section will be roughly weekly; I'll upload another one next Saturday (the 25th), and then on the following Friday (the 31st) I'll be both uploading a new chapter for this book and resuming uploads on my Albus Potter series, because I said I'd do that by the end of January._

_Happy reading!_

_-Cody_

* * *

**chapter six**

**riddle me this**

**friday, july 30, 2004**

Dolohov scrambled out of his bed at the crack of dawn and stood up sleepily. Today was the day he was to meet with the Death Eaters again and devise a plan for—though the thought was like to bring forth a surge of vomit—teaming up with Gallen Ingot. As much as he despised the man, Ingot had shown that he was a force to be reckoned with. And as much as he hated to admit it, the Death Eaters were _not_ a force to be reckoned with. They needed him… for now. Perhaps they could discover what had made him so powerful, and steal the secrets, but for now, they had to swallow their pride. Of course, they had to find him first if they were to begrudgingly accept his offer at all.

Dolohov turned towards his kitchen, transforming his clothes back into the day's robes as he walked, but he shuffled to a stop as an unfamiliar sound caught his ear.

Something was hissing in the kitchen—a snake? Whose snake? Was it a snake? Whatever it was, it wasn't supposed to be there.

He drew his wand and approached the corner. Quickly and silently, he magically discerned the position of the intruder, and he whipped around the corner with his wand aimed at the back of an unfamiliar head.

The trespasser turned his head to look at the new arrival in the kitchen—it was Ingot himself, standing in Dolohov's kitchen, with a frying pan.

"Morning, Dolly," said Ingot. "Fancy a strip of bacon?"

"What is this?" growled Dolohov.

"It's a dead pig seared in a pan."

"I know what bacon is," said Dolohov, unable to believe he was having a conversation with Ingot about bacon. "What are you doing in my house?"

"Offering you bacon," said Ingot, pulling a strip off the frying pan with his bare hands and wiggling it in the air. "It's deliiiciooous…"

"Get to the point!" barked Dolohov. "Why are—"

"You still haven't answered my question," interrupted Ingot.

"You haven't asked a question!"

"Yes, I have. I asked if you would like some—"

"I WANT NO FUCKING BACON!"

"Gee, you could have just said 'no,'" said Ingot, slapping the bacon back into the pan with a sizzle.

"Why are you here, Ingot?" snapped Dolohov. "Don't say anything about bacon."

"Well, I'm here to cook your breakfast and snap your Muggle necks," said Ingot, returning to the frying. "I was planning to bring you breakfast in bed, but you're an early bird, aren't you? It's not even light out. Happy Harry Potter Eve!"

"Happy what?" grumbled Dolohov, anything but happy, his wand still directed at the back of Ingot's head.

"Tomorrow's Harry Potter's birthday. You'll love the gift I got you. Did you get me anything?"

"I will give you a permanent head injury if you don't get to the point."

"Well, I'm here to reoffer my offer, of course," said Ingot. "I'd like to lead your men in a war against the Muggle-loving Ministry that is poisoning our nation. And soon we can extend our reach to the governments of all the world."

Dolohov held his wand steady. Of course he had to say yes… but he did not want to appear desperate.

This wasn't how Dolohov had anticipated the return of Ingot. He had expected that Ingot would wander into their gathering as he had done a few weeks earlier, and then he'd had a plan. Most of the Death Eaters he knew were in favor of allowing Ingot to lead their efforts. He was reluctantly in favor as well, but he knew how to play his cards.

He had planned on putting the issue to a vote. He would not have voted for Ingot, thus not appearing weak and desperate, but the majority of the Death Eaters would have voted yes. He would have conceded to the consensus of the group in allowing Ingot to lead, but not having voted for Ingot himself, he was still keeping his image. Eventually, when he would have someone else dispatch Ingot for him, he would return to power, and he would not seem to have swayed from his position.

But now, Ingot had shown up in his home, basically demanding the answer now. If Dolohov arrived with Ingot at the meeting and had to announce that he had given up his power to Ingot, then there was no guarantee he would get that power back.

"We can put it to a vote," growled Dolohov. "If the majority of my men want you to join us, then I have no choice but to—"

"Well, you do have a choice," interjected Ingot, turning around happily. "You can choose now. I would never go behind the back of the people's leader by asking the _people._ I have the respect to ask him in person."

Dolohov's eye twitched; Ingot was outmaneuvering him, forcing him to give up his power right here and now. But he wouldn't give it up.

After a long silence, he spoke, formulating his response in the process.

"You must agree to some… conditions," he said, "if you are to lead us."

"I'd be glad to hear them," said Ingot.

"Firstly," said Dolohov, "you will make no decisions without my knowledge and approval."

"I intend to lead, not to be led," said Ingot. "Are you suggesting we are equals in power? Then the same goes for you, yes? You will make no decisions without _my_ knowledge and approval."

"I am _allowing_ you to lead my men—I will _not_ allow you to lead _me._"

"Then I'm afraid I would have to dismiss you," said Ingot, still smiling, that striking red eye still staring Dolohov down.

"_Dismiss_ me?" shot Dolohov. "What happened to your _respect?_"

"I have the respect to ask you in person," said Ingot, "but I also have the power to kill you if you refuse my request."

"I have the wand," said Dolohov. "Reach for yours and I end your miserable joke of a life."

"It would greatly humor me to watch you try. Care to have a go?"

Dolohov did not waver. "I can kill you easily," he said. "But if you kill me, you will never earn the trust of the others."

"Oh, is that true?" said Ingot. "I'd ask Yaxley and the Lestranges before you jump to such conclusions…"

"What?"

Finally, Dolohov's wand wavered slightly, and Ingot noticed.

"You'd be surprised," said Ingot gleefully, "how many people you can get on your side by cooking them bacon."

"You said you wouldn't go behind my back."

"I'm a dirty liar."

Dolohov lowered his wand and stowed it away. There was nothing he could do about this. Now he could only hurt himself by trying to keep his image. He would have to do some quick thinking later, acting on the fly. But for now… Ingot had won this round. He had been slowly and inconspicuously destroying the supports of the Ministry of Magic for days before finally bringing it down; in much the same way, he had destroyed Dolohov's supports, and there was nothing holding Dolohov up anymore. The only thing to do now was to ride on Ingot's filthy coattails.

"You know as well as I do that I have no option but to accept," said Dolohov, still not yielding and saying "yes" outright.

"Correct, I know that very well," said Ingot. "Is that a yes?"

"It will be," said Dolohov, "under your acceptance that should you betray us, we will not hesitate to use our full capabilities to dispatch you."

"Oh, now why would I do that?" purred Ingot softly. "We _need_ each other. We need each other like wand wood needs a core."

"You mean you need us like a mosquito needs a vein."

"We shall see about that," said Ingot. "So. Is that a yes?"

"Assuming you keep your word."

"I will. So, this is a yes?"

Dolohov curled his fists.

"You're a stubborn one," sighed Ingot. "Fine. I will take it as a yes for now, but later, I expect you to fully surrender your command without verbal nuance. Once you see what I am truly capable of, I don't expect this level of hesitation, and I won't tolerate it."

"We shall see about that," challenged Dolohov.

Ingot giggled and shrugged. "Well, I must be heading off now, to make my final preparations, but I shall attend your meeting, so we shan't be apart for long—"

"How did you get into my house?" demanded Dolohov.

"Well if you must know—"

"Yes, I must know, so that I can ensure it doesn't happen again. How did you get into my house?"

"Magic," said Ingot.

Dolohov began reddening with rage again.

"Anyway, it has been a pleasure, Anthony—"

"_Antonin,_" spat Dolohov.

"My apologies—it's been a pleasure, Antonio, but I must be heading out, so I have one last offer before I skedaddle."

"_What now?_"

"Are you _sure_ you don't want any bacon?"

"GET OUT!" roared Dolohov, whipping out his wand and engulfing the entire kitchen in purple flames. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE IMMEDIATELY! AND TAKE YOUR GODDAMNED BACON WITH YOU!"

"Okay, okay, geez, I'm going," said Ingot, huffing. "See you tonight. But first, come with me to your front door—I'd like to give you a little show before I go."

Dolohov followed Ingot, if only to make sure that he was actually leaving. Ingot skipped like a giddy schoolgirl to the front door and opened it without seeming to move at all. He skidded gracefully down the front steps into the lawn, which fed into a sprawling meadow covering the English countryside.

"Riddle me this, Antoinette," said Ingot. "Could Tom Riddle do—_this?_"

With a quake that shook all of the earth, Ingot threw his arms into the air, wandlessly, and then slammed his fists into the ground. A massive tornado—out of a completely blue sky—dropped down from nowhere, and clouds began to billow out of its peak. The tornado slammed into the old abandoned farmhouse on the other side of the field, shattering it like a bomb had gone off, and bolts of lightning began cascading down out of the roiling clouds, blasting apart every single tree on the border of the meadow. The tornado was making a roaring sound like a thousand Killing Curses as it consumed all of the old farmland, and then the vortex was sucked up into the sky and disappeared along with every cloud, leaving nothing but blue sky and a smoldering ruin across the field.

Dolohov stared in complete and utter shock and awe. Never before in his life had he seen any display of power that had come close to rivaling what he had just witnessed—and he had been a high-ranking lieutenant in the army of the greatest wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort. How had stupid, witless Gallen Ingot come to such enormous power?

"Ha," said Ingot, chuckling to himself. "Hoo. Ha."

"No, he couldn't," answered Dolohov quietly—it was worse to remain as if speechless than to answer Ingot's question. No, Lord Voldemort could _not_ do that.

"Hoo-ha-ha," said Ingot, scrambling to his feet. He swayed to one side and fell over again onto the grass, and began rolling in it. "Oh-ho-ho!"

"What is the matter with you?" thundered Dolohov, whipping out his wand once more. "Get out of here—did you not hear me?"

"I heard you say 'get out of my house,' and indeed I am out of your house!" whooped Ingot, leaping to his feet again.

He looked at Dolohov with a manic expression. Despite his resolution to stand his ground, Dolohov could not help but be shaken when he noticed that Ingot's discolored eye was now not just red in color, but actually _glowing_ red. His eye was casting such a sharp ray of light that when he looked Dolohov in the eye, Dolohov had to twitch and turn his head to avoid being blinded.

"Didn't say I couldn't be _next_ to your house!" yipped Ingot, running directly into the wall of Dolohov's house with such force that he left a dent in the wooden frame. Unfazed, he jumped straight onto the roof. "Now I'm _on_ your house! Ha-ha!"

As if seized by a heart attack, Ingot suddenly went completely rigid, and toppled over, tumbling off the roof and landing with a crack on the sidewalk. On shaky arms, he lifted himself off of the ground; his nose was bleeding profusely.

For several full minutes, Dolohov stared at Ingot, who was on all fours, staring at the growing pool of blood under his dripping nose. Ingot finally balanced on one arm as he extracted his wand and lifted it to his nose—oh, so now he needed a wand?

He fixed the damage and cleaned his face. Slowly, he rose to his feet again, and turned to face Dolohov. His expression was unreadable.

Dolohov stared back at him. The eye was no longer glowing, but Ingot was no longer so cocky. Now Ingot was the one shaking. What on earth had happened to him—what had he _done_ to himself to become like this?

"Side effects may include going absolutely fucking bonkers," stated Ingot simply. "I'm, er… working on that. See you at the gathering."

The ground opened up under him like the maw of a giant beast, and he fell, disappearing as the hole closed over him. There was a soft rumbling in the earth, growing fainter as he departed.

* * *

_Next chapter: "The Kingsley Speech." Minister Shacklebolt gives a speech to the Aurors to incite and encourage them as they face a threat far larger than they'd anticipated._


End file.
